Back to the Time of Indecision
by Hgmuffin-stuff
Summary: "Man Ray is great." No he isn't! That ****ing % &#! - Get a grip on yourself, Squilliam. You can't live in the past any longer.


**Back to the Time of Indecision**

_by Hg Muffin-Stuff_

Summary: "Man Ray is great." _No he isn't! That ****ing %^&#! - Get a grip on yourself, Squilliam. You can't live in the past any longer._

Inspired by the episode Back to the Past - 85% of this written right after that episode premier. Takes place in the timeline where Man Ray took over, prior to him taking over.

Chapter One: Afternoon

"You've never had anything like this." Squilliam grinned narrowly, teeth peeking out over his bottom lip. His voice didn't beg confirmation - it boasted extravagance. He relaxed against the velvet sofa, glided the silver tray nearer to Squidward's mouth. "Tell me that isn't the best oyster you've ever tasted."

As the raw oyster flesh slithered down his throat, fine white wine and lemon converging on the back of his tongue, Squidward closed his eyes, moaning in ineffable pleasure. In an unconscious bid for attention, he steadily leaned closer until their shoulders pressed into each other, cheap polyester blend scrubbing into the refined silk of Squilliam's smoking jacket sleeve, a long lock of his carefully groomed blond hair falling in the space between, softening their contact. "It's...good." Squidward adopted a smile of smug infatuation.

Squilliam filled their wine glasses. "Good, eh?" He pulled Squidward's hand to his lips, applied a painstakingly delicate breath to the skin. "You're just not accustomed to excellence, my darling."

Squidward concealed the blush that bubbled up by raising his glass in a conspicuous gesture. Muffled behind the glass, he said, "Oh I'm not?"

"Of course not. You've only known me - what, six years?"

"Oh, you're right, of course. I'm not at all used to excellence. I'm quite accustomed to you, though." Squidward snickered as he sipped his wine.

"You're a smart one, insulting your gracious host as he feeds you delicacies you could never afford on your meager salary." Squilliam tugged at his hand, twiddling the tip of his tentacle, inadvertently elbowing Squidward and sloshing some wine from his glass onto his shirt.

Squilliam provided him a handkerchief, which he used to dab at his shirt. "I am smart. I know exactly how far I can push you before you cut me off."

"Hey Squiddy," he said, setting his glass down. "Hey Squiddy, I wanna know something."

"Yeah? What is it?" He stared, eyes glassy and penetrating.

Lowering his eyes, Squilliam said above a whisper, "Why do you come see me?"

"What kind of question is -" Squidward realized they were still holding hands.

"Darling, I want to know." His lips pouted, the pupils large and appealing, yet hanging somewhat low and mysteriously.

"I - I like you, okay?" He wrestled his hand away from Squilliam's. "I _like_ you." Squidward looked up, head bowed a bit, lower lip pinched slightly under a quivering row of teeth.

Crossing his legs, he rested his chin in his hand, cocked his head obliquely, and said, "Oh do you?" He rocked his shoulder against Squidward's. "Tell me about it."

A twitch of the eyes. "I can't imagine life without you in it."

He took Squidward's glass from him, set it down on the table before laying him back against the cushion, stroking his inner thighs and pressing their lips together, squeezing his butt rhythmically. "Oh darling," he said breathily before kissing him again, this time forcing his mouth open to lap at the side of his tongue. Lips smacking at separation, he suppressed a chuckle. "Oh, Squiddy darling, you can't possibly be that naïve."

"W-what do you mean?"

"All you need to live is yourself. That's why I'm living the high life and you're...well, you."

"Bullshit. You're living the high life because mommy and daddy paid for it. And I didn't say I need you to live. I just said I couldn't imagine what it'd be like."

"Okay, fair enough. But do you honestly think we could...what? Date? Marry? Is that what you want, Squidward, you want to walk down the aisle with me?"

"I don't want - I don't know, Squillie."

"Yeah, right. You want me." A sly smirk. "Look, what do you want to do about it? You want me to love you? Fuck you? I'm not going to be your boyfriend, if that's what you're thinking."

"Can you?"

"Can I what?"

"You know...love me?"

Squilliam sighed, dragging his hand down over his face, compressing into his nose. "You really need to stop wanting the impossible, Squiddy." He stood, hand brushing Squidward's knees as he walked past to the other side of the sofa overlooking the blond streaming from his reclining head.

"Are you absolutely sure it's impossible?"

"I'm absolutely sure it's slightly less than impossible." He kneeled, cupping Squidward's chin in the tight slippery squish of suction cups. "Look at me, Squiddy. Don't count on me."

Easier said than done. He'd spent the last six years counting on him. "You know I'll still count on you."

"I know you will. I know _you_, darling." Squilliam grazed the back of his hand against his cheek.

He gulped, eyes still fixed on the other. "What are we, Squillie? Right now."

"Right now, you're a great guy to talk to, you're a delightfully free spirit, you're...comfortable, my dear chum."

"But you invite me here all the time; I almost live here! You're so affectionate, too - you mean you really don't feel anything like that about me?"

"Squiddy, I'm a wealthy artist. Permit me a little eccentricity, hmm?"

"I guess, but -"

"You want to date? I must warn you: one night out will ruin your comfortableness; I guarantee it. You want to fuck? I promise you, it'll break your heart to constantly listen for the words, 'I love you' and hear nothing." Squidward's eyelid twitched, a tear quavering on the brim. Squilliam spoke in a gentle voice, nose dangling just above forehead. "We can never be more than what we are right now."

"That kiss had me fooled."

"Well. You're no fool at kissing, Sizzle Lips Squiddy."

"You're still calling me that?"

"Indeed I am."

"Oh, please, Squilliam, it was awhile ago - we were freshmen, for Neptune's sake! Can't you let it alone?"

"Let me think about it - mm, nope, sorry Sizzle Lips."

"Fine, call me what you want. Just...don't say anything about the way I got that name, all right?"

"You drive a tough bargain. But alrighty. Deal. Hand me that newspaper."

"This one?"

"Yes, that one," he said, opening the page to read on his way to the parlor. "I can't believe someone like Man Ray has actually made it this far in politics. The citizens of Bikini Bottom can't possibly be that stupid?"

"Can - are," Squidward said, lackadaisically glancing at the page as he followed Squilliam down the hall, feet squishing asynchronously against polished floors.

"You know, just because you go to community college, doesn't mean you know what's good for everyone else."

"Why? Obviously everyone else has done a good job of screwing things up."

"Things aren't _that_ bad, Squiddy."

"Then what about Man Ray? You think that's the system working?"

"You worry too much. I'm sure people will wise up sooner or later."

Squidward rushed ahead of him. "But what if they don't?" He pulled the newspaper down and touched his elbow. "What if they just want lies and a farce fed to them on a plate? What do you think about that?"

He folded the paper up, walking past him to straighten up a flower arrangement in a nearby vase. "I think you work too hard at that greasy spoon. I had this weekend booked at Platinum Springs Resort, but a more recent engagement has forced me to cancel - I'll give you the reservation if you want it."

"I could use a vacation. Krabs would never let me take the weekend off, though."

Squilliam flipped through his wallet. "You make...minimum wage, right?"

He sighed. "Yes..."

"This should change his mind."

"Squilliam, I don't want you to do thi-"

"And why not? You deserve a little pampering, don't you? Unlike your boss, you see, I like to share my wealth. If he were a truly great businessman, instead of a ruthless entrepreneur with a boner for cash, he would understand that a little friendliness," he stuffed a wad of cash into Squidward's shirt pocket, "goes a long way."

"Gee, I don't know what to tell you," he said, fumbling over his flimsily concealed gratitude.

"The customary phrase is 'Thank you,' darling."

Squidward smirked. "Is the 'darling' mandatory?"

"Yes," Squilliam said, his cheeks and jaw dropping to a deadly serious pose of concern as he stared into his eyes. "Absolutely." The doorbell rang, prompting him to arch his back up as he buoyed himself up against Squidward's shoulders. "Ooh! That'll be the first guest."


End file.
